


Encounters And Encores

by tielan



Series: Everybody Needs Good Neighbours [6]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Neighbors, Couch Sex, Did I mention the sex?, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Oral Sex, Sex, Smut, negotiating sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-23
Updated: 2017-10-23
Packaged: 2018-09-25 13:30:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9822728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tielan/pseuds/tielan
Summary: Steve planned to skim her mouth, teasing her with promises of more. Instead, Maria drops them straight into the zone, adrenaline and heat striking a lightning connection between his brain and his balls, no seduction required. As opening salvos go, Steve thinks, a little blurrily, it’s a good one.





	1. (Sexual) Encounters...

 

The drive home from the restaurant is several kinds of hell for Steve.

In spite of everything he’s said to Maria about allowing her to say ‘no’ if she doesn’t want to come in, all the way back he wants to _push_.

In the street, against the car, she kissed him back with an open mouth, and raked her nails down his nape – just the way he imagined she’d rake his back as he moved in her. But when she broke the kiss, he let her, and stepped back when she nudged him away. _I’ll think about it,_ she said as she climbed into the car.

Steve damn well thinks about it all the way home.

But he waits until she’s stepped out of the car and he’s closed the door behind her before asking, “So. My house or yours?”

Maria’s turned to look at her house, the porch light gleaming, her warm bed and purry pet waiting, and Steve takes a deep breath and prepares to be disappointed.

Then she turns back to him and says through a dark cloud of lashes, “Yours.”

And maybe she doesn’t mean it to sound quite so huskily inviting, but the word sends a shiver down Steve’s spine. Or maybe it’s the gust of wind that nips in through the collar of their jackets, and incites him to slip an arm around her waist and usher her up the porch stairs to the door. He feels her shiver, too, even through the layers of her coat, and can’t quite resist brushing his mouth along the inch of exposed neck under her earlobe as he fishes for his keys.

“Steve.”

“Maria.” He unlocks the door more by touch than by sight, twisting the key in the deadbolt as he presses up behind her. “Turn the knob.”

They walk into the the house, a welcoming warmth surrounding them. Steve closes the door behind them, giving her enough time to look around at the entryway – thank God, he tidied up a little this afternoon – before he tosses the keys in the jar on the hallway table, his wallet beside it, and backs Maria up against the door.

Her hands come up to his shoulders – startled, not fighting – and her lips part in anticipation, a invitation of soft scarlet. But Steve doesn’t kiss her straight away, cupping her face with his hand and watching her brows lift in query.

“ _This_ is your seduction technique, Rogers?”

His mouth curves; she’s a splash of vinegar in a salad – the sharp and tangy flavouring that adds spice to the mix. “Feel free to tell me if it’s not working for you, Mar—”

Her hand wraps around his neck, pulling him down to her. And she kisses him like she’s waging a war and this is her opening salvo.

Steve planned to skim her mouth, teasing her with promises of more. Instead, Maria drops them straight into the zone, adrenaline and heat striking a lightning connection between his brain and his balls, no seduction required.

As opening salvos go, Steve thinks, a little blurrily, it’s a good one.

But he’s not without a few weapons of his own.

He learned sex late, a small, skinny teen who didn’t start coming into his own until he was nearly eighteen. But by the time his glands started rushing hormones through his body and brain, he’d had the time to make a few connections his testosterone-fuelled peers hadn’t. Girls liked guys who listened to them, who paid attention. And he liked paying attention to girls, both during sex and not during it – they were interesting, different, and very cluey.

Okay, so the dinner earlier was supposed to be an act to get her gran off her back – payment in a recipe and game tickets – but Steve couldn’t resist pushing the limits. Bringing her flowers. Giving her compliments. Helping her into her coat. Touching her over dinner. And, yeah, if it hadn’t been an act, he’d probably have never been so bold.

It’s not an act now. Not with her body pressed up against him through the opening of her coat, or with the hand flexing inside his shirt collar, or with her mouth on his, nipping at him in eager audacity.

A bright jolt of heat and connection thrums in his blood as they devour each other with kisses, as she pushes his jacket off his shoulders, and lets him shrug her out of her coat. Steve skims his hands down her sides and lingers over the slight tremble of her mouth in his. He circles her waist with his hands and pins her to the door with his hips – not violent, just firm. And she eases herself against him in a way that makes it clear she wants him – and how!

Only...then Maria angles her face down and away, and Steve lets up, drawing back far enough so he can see her, cheeks flushed, lips swollen, eyes hazy.

“What is it?”

“Groundrules.”

“Sure.” It’s not a surprise; it’s even a good thing. Steve has a few of his own and it’s best to make sure everyone’s on the same page before they start getting intense. “Fire away.”

“Condoms. For everything. I’m on the pill, but I don’t take chances.” Her eyes search his face, looking for...what? Disagreement? She won’t find it in him.

“I’ve got condoms. Anything else?”

“I only do vanilla on the first date.”

And that’s blunt enough. But the acknowledgement of vanilla means that she’s aware there are things _beyond_ vanilla... “Do you ever do chocolate? Okay,” he says hastily as she narrows her eyes. “Just how vanilla is vanilla?”

“No anal.”

Steve chuckles – not at the prohibition, but at the way she’s put it. “That’s a very, uh, _broad_ definition of vanilla.”

“Think of it as a starting point.”

He leans in and brushes his mouth along her jaw up to the join of neck and throat. “Negotiating?”

“Yes.”

“I like it. So...do we start with missionary as the baseline?”

This time, the shudder is laughter. “Sure, okay. I can do missionary, although I prefer cowboy.”

“Of course you would.” Luckily Steve likes cowboy, too – he gets the view _and_ an all-access pass. He trails his mouth lightly up the shell of her ear, then back down to the earlobe, which he strokes with his tongue and notes her shiver. “I can’t wait to taste you.”

The hiccup of breath that teases his ear is gratifying. “I thought we were negotiating.”

“We are.” He leans back and gives her his most innocent look. “We’re negotiating you naked against this door with my tongue on you while you come like a freight train.”

“I... That’s... That’s pretty explicit.”

“I’ve been planning this for a while.”

Abruptly, Steve hopes that doesn’t sound as stalkerish as he suddenly thinks it is. They’re friendly neighbors, right? And Maria isn’t just being polite, not when she’s giving him the keys to her house while she’s away so he can look after her pet, and letting him feed her mouthfuls of steak, and taking him to meet her family – even if it is pretence. She’s letting him pin her up against the door, and they’ve just been kissing, and Steve can see the pulse at her throat hammering away, but she’s not fighting him off, so obviously he’s not _awful..._

“A while, huh?” She clears her throat. “So, you want to go down on me? Am I expected to reciprocate?”

“Expected?No.” Steve dares a quick kiss. “I don’t _expect_ anything from you. I’m _hoping_ you’ll have sex with me in many and various ways, because if it’s not already obvious, I’m kind of hot for you.”

Maria arches one eyebrow before her fingers grip his hips and she pulls him right up against her so the swell of his erection in his trousers is nestled in the dip between her thighs. “No, really?” Her voice takes on a dry edge.

“Well, maybe you should let me _show_ you...”

Steve finds the zipper pull of her dress between kisses and coaxes it down her spine while her hands work at his shirt buttons. He has the dress off her shoulders and her bra unhooked by the time she starts trying to drag his shirt off his shoulders. Steve obliges in stripping off his shirt without letting up the kisses, and she reciprocates by splaying her fingers across his chest and sliding her nails from his nipple to his navel. Steve shudders at the tease and is about to ask her to do it again when she drops her hand and just grips him through his trousers.

Getting her naked becomes a priority, because if she gets her hands on his bare cock, he might last a minute, or he might just shoot his load in seconds.

“Dress,” he manages, tugging at the opened edges. It needs easing over her hips, and when it falls, it pools at her feet , tangling with the bra that dropped straight down once it came off her arms. And then Maria’s undressed...sort of.

Steve looks his fill, because Maria hasn’t tried to cover herself over. Instead, she’s pressed her palms flat against the back of the door and lifted her chin. And yes, there’s the long throat, the slender shoulders, the sweet little swell of her dusky-tipped breasts and the hollow of her belly button, but then there’s the sleek waist of the garter belt holding up sheer stockings above a tiny triangle of lace...

 _And_ she’s still wearing her jewellery and heeled boots!

The pose is hot as hell, the challenge in her eyes as much a provocation as the bared skin. Steve nearly drops straight to his knees in worship. _Be still, my beating heart._ The only thing that keeps him on his feet is the recollection that she’s been hesitant about oral so far – if she didn’t veto it, she wasn’t exactly enthusiastic, either.

Which just means he has to persuade her.

He leans in and brushes his mouth over hers, pushing his chest up against the tips of her breasts, his hand stroking her waist. “Are you sure about this?”

“I haven’t run screaming yet.”

He gives his hands free rein to explore then: cupping, stroking, caressing, and listening to her breath shudder as he does. “Mm. Well, I’m kind of hoping there’ll be screaming,” he tells her as he draws his mouth along the line of her jaw up to her ear and nips hard enough to make her arch. “I find it...gratifying.”

Maria laughs under his mouth. “I’m not much of a screamer.”

“Mind if I try to change that?”

“Mm...” She presses up against his hands, rubbing herself against him in open invitation. “Sure. Do your worst.”

Steve figures that’s as good as permission.

So he starts by running his hands along her body, teasing her nipples with his thumbs, sketching his fingers down to her hips, and kissing her until she’s gasping. In return, Maria drags her fingers down his spine, gooses him, and hoists herself up against him, causing a rush of blood to his cock. With one leg hooked over his hip, she pulls him intimately against her and, caught in the moment, Steve thrusts back. For a few panting, breathless seconds they grind against each other in intense rhythm and it feels fucking _amazing_.

But this isn’t the way Steve wants this to go.

With herculanean effort, his hands curl over her hipbones and he pushes her away, pinning her back against the door, panting hard. “No,” he croaks. “Not like this.”

Her fingers trail down his forearms to circle his wrists. “How, then?”

He needs to cool off a little, get his head out of his pants. That means getting into hers.

“We were negotiating cunnilingus before.”

Her mouth drops open. “You were serious about wanting to go down on me?”

“Uhuh.” He kisses her deep and slow, teasing her tongue with his, giving her a taste of what he’s going to do when she lets him get down on his knees. Then he pulls back to look her in the eye. “Let me. Please?”

Maria take a deep breath, then lets it out on a shudder. “Okay.”

Steve grins and kisses her, mouths clashing in fierce desire, then nips his way up her jaw. He likes to be thorough in these things, so he starts from the top and works his way down.

Her breath catches as his tongue traces her throat and her collarbone. She chokes a little as his teeth nip at the upper curve of her breast before he licks a a slow inbound circle towards the tip. Then he closes his lips around the nipple and laves it hard, sucking, nipping, licking, even as his hand keeps her hips pinned while she whimpers and writhes and jerks until he lifts his mouth from her skin, leaving her panting.

“You know,” she manages, “I figured you for more of a legs kind of guy.”

“A man can be both,” he tells her, holding her hips in place against the door, starting to work his way down her belly, nipping and biting and teasing her with the arrowing promise of where he’s heading.

He pauses at her belly button when she catches her breath, though, flicking his tongue into the little dip, then stroking wet patterns across her hipbones, before returning to slide his tongue into the delicate hollow.

“You have odd tastes, Rogers.”

“Ever done body shots?” He smirks up at her. “Tequila...” He swirls his tongue into her belly button. “Lime...” He nips at the lace waistband of her panties. “And salt...”

Maria knows what’s coming – she has to know – but the choked noise she makes as his tongue pushes the lace and into her cleft is gratifying. As is just how _wet_ she is,  soft and swollen and musky—

Steve thrusts his tongue against the lace, using the texture to tease her. The sticky scent of her is so damn hot – hot as her moans, hot as the fingers cupping his head and urging him _there_ , _that angle, right there, oh, God, yes—_

She whimpers when he backs off, but it’s only to yank down her panties, part her flesh, and go for gold. And by the Maria’s head thumps back against the door, he’s iron-hard in his trousers.

Her hand clenches in his hair. “Enough,” she says, and her voice is hoarse. “Enough! Stop, Steve. Please.”

Steve lingers just a moment longer, then bestows a kiss on the swollen tip of her clit. He eases himself back up her body and brushes his mouth softly across hers. She quivers, but her mouth moves in his, lazily teasing as she slides her arms around his neck and presses herself against him and skims her hand down his body to cup the painfully rigid erection straining against his fly.

“Uh, we’ll need—Condom—”

“Mm, yes,” she says as she pushes herself off the door and starts easing them backwards, using her palm on his balls like a rudder to direct him. “You’ll want one of those...”

When Steve nearly stumbles back against the wall, he realises that if he doesn’t pick somewhere comfortable, she’s likely to take him here in the entryway. Which, yes, utterly scorching hot, but also not quite what he had in mind. He wants to be very comfortable for sex with Maria Hill, because if he has his way, they’ll be at it a while.

So he eases her hand off him, taking it in his own. A tug redirects her past the hallway table, and he swipes his wallet – with his condoms inside – as he goes. “This way.”

The lounge is neat enough – a few art magazines, a sketchpad, and a scatter of pencils on the coffee table – but she isn’t interested in his housekeeping. Thank God.

At the lounge, they shuck his trousers and his boxers, and if the leather is a little cool against his butt and thighs as he sits, Steve doesn’t have the chance to notice for more than a moment before Maria climbs onto him, all sleek skin and splayed legs over his thighs. He gets his hands on her breasts just as she takes him in hand.

_Want_ rips through him like a summer storm, winding tight in his belly.

“Easy,” he manages, and drags her mouth to his for a kiss. “Be gentle with me.”

Her answer is a laugh that shudders down his spine. “You don’t want gentle, Steve.” But she lightens her grip just a little, although she doesn’t stop stroking him. Her touch is magic - not too grasping, not too rough, and sensuous enough to make Steve feel like she’d pump him slowly for _hours_ before driving him to a glorious finish. Assuming he  had hours in him, which Steve is pretty sure he doesn’t. Right now, in spite of his earlier boast, he’s not sure he has _minutes_ in him.

So hot. So damn hot and pretty in his lap, long limbs and scarlet smile, and so many sensitive spots for him to touch and taste and tease while she works him to feverish lust and he needs to be in her _now_.

He wraps a hand around her nape and pulls her down for a fierce slew of kisses. “I want to come in you.” It feels a little dirty to say that, but she just makes a happy little exhalation, almost like a sigh.

“Condom?”

Steve fumbles with his wallet, with the condom, his hands shaking, then looks up to find her watching him, her mouth curved with laughter. He ofers it to her. “You’d better do the honors.”

“All right then. Stand to, soldier.” And she peels the wrapper off, then slides it delicately on him, smoothing it with her fingers while Steve chokes.

He doesn’t quite haul her onto his cock, but it’s probably pretty close. Not that she’s complaining as her arms come around his neck and she wriggles on him, hot and tight and exquisite, even through the condom.

“Comfortable?” Steve hears the quiver in his voice, and knows he’s not too far off from losing it entirely.

“Not quite...” Maria bites her lip and shifts, experimentally.

It’s torture. Absolute and utter torture, and Steve breathes very carefully, his hands closed into fists by his thighs as she tries to find a comfortable position, shifting and wriggling and...and _smirking_...

“You _..._.” Steve’s hands close over her hips and he jerks his hips up, yanking her down on him. Her laughter dissolves into a breathless gasp, and her nails dig into his shoulders as he grinds up into her. Then she groans, and he groans, too. She’s soft and hot, and he wants to tip her backwards until her spine hits the coffee table, because then she’ll be laid out before him and he’ll have control and leisure to fuck her until...

There’s more than one way to control things in sex than physical domination, though.

Steve rolls his hips again, his hands keeping her firmly on him. The slick flesh surrounding his cock clenches _so_ beautifully... He slides his mouth up the side of her neck and across to her mouth, and captures the little moan she makes in her throat as he starts riding her from underneath – and it’s such a pleasure to move in her, uninhibited, with her breath panting sharply against his cheek, her nails grazing his nape.

Steve tilts his head up. “Minx.”

Her grin is unrepentant. “Do I get a spanking?”

“You’ve already had the oral sex.” 

“Maybe I’m greedy.”

“Oh, you certainly are.” Steve keeps rolling his hips, his hands mostly guiding her, letting gravity hold her on him, letting one thumb stroke down the crease of her thighs, sliding his hand down between them and grazing her damp and swollen nub. “Luckily, so am I...”

Maria bites his lip, nestling against him so skin drags against skin, and her body twitches, a slick ripple around him – oh, God, _yes_ – and Steve figures he’s satisfied her twice, he can let himself go...

In the breathless quiet afterwards, she sags against him. And Steve takes a minute to catch his breath, but the condom is loosening—

She starts to climb off when he shifts, but Steve is having none of that. He eases her sideways, down to the couch cushions, and swipes the condom, depositing it in a sticky pile on an opened envelope. A wad of takeout napkins on the coffee table provides him with something to help clean Maria up – which she lets him do, even shifting her legs to give him better access to the sticky and damp smears across her thighs.

“Such a gentleman,” she murmurs, lashes lifting over a sleepy, satisfied blue gaze. And just for that, Steve strokes his fingertip around the wet, still-sensitive entrance to her body.

It’s only once, and mostly in teasing, although the tremble of swollen flesh under his finger is a little bit hot and maybe a little bit wrong, too. Maria shivers, and her lips part, but she doesn’t tell him to stop, or slap his hand away. Instead, as he draws his hand away, she huffs out a long breath, and when he starts to brace himself over her, she slips a hand behind his neck and pulls him down for a soft, sweet kiss, settling against his body with her arms around him.

So she’s a snuggler? Not what Steve expected, but he can work with that. He rather likes the post-coital cuddle himself – although now that the heat of the moment has passed, he’s starting to feel the chill.

A quick glance around shows the patchwork quilt his mom made for his graduation flung over the arm of the couch, down near his foot, and he pulls it up with scrunched toes before grabbing it one-handed to pull over them both.

“Nice,” she murmurs.

“All good? Warm enough?”

“Mhmm. Best hot water bottle ever.”

“I try.” He leans in to nip at her throat and lets his weight rest heavy on her. “You make a great cushion, yourself...”

Maria laughs, a little breathlessly, and pushes at his shoulder. Steve wriggles to the side until the bulk of his weight is off her. “Better?”

Her hand skims down his chest, lingering in the hollow of his breastbone. “Much.” She yawns and her eyes flutter shut. “Sorry. I’ll get up in a moment.”

“No rush.” He watches her lashes flutter down. “I’m not going to kick you out.”

In fact, he’s kind of tempted to carry her upstairs and put her to bed – his bed. But he’s feeling more than a little sleepy himself. And it’s so nice lying here, well-satisfied, with a well-satisfied woman in his arms...


	2. Chapter 2

Maria wakes sharply and with the lingering feeling of disorientation. Her first inhalation of breath is full of...male warmth. Skin. Sweat. Sex.

 _Steve_.

Steve and dinner with her grandparents. Steve kissing her up against the car. Steve crowding her on the porch, going down on her against the front door, letting her ride him on the couch, snuggling down against her...

Oh God.

Steve and dinner with her grandparents pretending to be her boyfriend. Except that Maria came home and let the pretend boyfriend fuck her to the point where they both fell asleep on the couch—

She tenses as warm hands shift on her spine, Steve’s hands stroking across her bare skin. “Whoops,” he murmurs, and she can hear the smile in his voice. “Guess we tired each other out.”

Maria tries to find somewhere to put her hands that isn’t his body; how did she never notice that he’s so damn _big_ before? She gets her hands on leather couch and pushes up – only to realise that it’s cold and his body is beautifully warm, and she’s naked – well, mostly – and so is he, and pushing her torso up means her hips press  down and he is definitely happy to see her.

She tries to wriggle off him – him and the half-woody he’s sporting – but his hands settle on her hips as he shifts, big and leisurely and surely aware of the effect of his body on a sleepy woman. “What’s the rush?”

“I’ve got to go home.”

“It’s...” he tilts his head to the side to see the time on the home entertainment system. “Oh-four-thirty.”

“Which is why I’ve got to—” A hand cups her nape and draws her mouth down to his. “Steve—!” Her protest is swallowed up in his mouth.

“You could stay,” he murmurs against her lips, his fingers trailing shivers across her skin. “I’ll make it worth your while.”

“You already did,” she murmurs back. The memory – and the warmth of his hands and body are making her pliable against him but she can’t— Oh, God, she likes the feel of him against her, from warm muscle to the smell of sex and sweat beneath the quilt, from the hands petting down her back to the way his erection presses into the notch between her thighs--

“I haven’t fed Mistah Fury.”

“He’s a cat. He’ll survive.” His voice sound as blurry as she feels, indistinct as he shifts beneath her. “Please?” He nips at her mouth. “I’ll make you crepes in the morning.”

Maria groans. He’s hot. He’s sexy. He’s offering her orgasms, a warm body to curl up against, and breakfast.

“You’re a menace, Rogers.”

He makes a noise of satisfaction. “I try.”

Then he flings off the quilt covering them.

Maria yelps at the sting of cool air against her skin. “What are you _doing_?”  It’s only chilly, not stinging freezing, but it’s not _warm_ either, except for the parts of her that are up against him – and those are _very_ warm.

He sits up, fast enough that she has to clutch his shoulders to keep her balance. “We’re going to my room where it’s warm and there’s a bed.”

The next moment, there’s light flooding the room, and Maria squints and winces, shivering as she sits up, and snags the tossed-aside quilt to cover her nakedness. Maybe he’s okay with striding through his house naked, but she’s not. She wants some covering, thank you very much! And speaking of clothing—

“I should pick up—”

“Tomorrow.” He pulls her up, his hand warm on hers as he tugs her up and through the house.

“It _is_ tomorrow—Hey!” She grabs for the quilt as he strips it from her. “It’s cold!”

“You won’t be for long. I promise.” He swings her up in his arms – and, no, she’s not a big woman but she’s no featherweight either, and he handles her like she weighs half what she does.

“Steve!” 

“Shush, Maria.”

The show of muscle and masculinity should not be as sexy as it is, and Maria’s pout is as much about the sudden curl of heat in her belly as it is at being overruled. She reaches out and tweaks his nipple, since it’s right there and handy on which to vent her ire.

“Ow!” He jiggles her in his arms. “Oh, you’re going to pay for that.”

The threat is ridiculously hot, but Maria isn’t about to just lie there and take it. She tweaks his nipple a second time as he shoulders them through the bedroom door and into what feels like a wall of heat. Then he kicks the door shut behind them and they’re in near-total darkness.

Maria yelps as he dumps her on a bed with a soft covering which smells distinctly of male body, and the disorientation and the scent sends her heart into a wild sprint. Then Steve’s mouth comes down over hers, his body covering hers on the bed and the thump of blood in her cleft becomes an arrowing ache.

He kisses like the tide, long, sweet strokes of his tongue in her mouth, inexorable in his focus and intense in his ferocity.

Not that she’s about to let him sweep her off-shore without fighting back.

Pressed into the mattress by a long, heavily-muscled body, her mouth unerringly occupied, Maria doesn’t have a lot of leverage. What she does have is a tongue, a pair of hands and a lot of skin-contact – including the swollen length of Steve’s erection pulsing against her leg.

She wriggles a little beneath him, parting her thighs and settling him between them. Steve grunts as he breaks off the kiss and levers himself up on his elbows, panting.

“Am I crushing you?”

“Not in a bad way.” Maria urges her hips against his, and smirks at his groan. Recklessness rushes through her like a drug, the conviction that she could do anything in his bed, demand anything, and he’d give it to her. “I want you in me, Steve,” she murmurs in his ear. “Fucking me _hard_ and _deep_ and _long.._.”

“What porn have you been watching?” But he doesn’t sound dismayed. In fact, if the tone of his voice is anything to go by, Maria would say that he’s considers this a challenge _—_ “Okay then.”

He rolls off, and it confuses her for a second before she hears the rasp of the drawer and the rustle of a condom wrapper. Thank God one of them is thinking of protection; Maria completely forgot. Then Steve is back over her, big hands, eager mouth, and the thick push of his cock stretching her by aching degrees.

Maria digs her fingers into his buttocks and arches into the thrust, allowing the already keen edge of desire to slice through her as he fills her full.

“Good?”

“Yes,” she manages as she hooks her legs over his hips and grunts a little at the pressure. “Now, move your ass, Rogers,” she orders, and doesn’t care that she sounds bossy.

He slants his mouth over hers, and starts moving his ass. But instead of the hard, fast strokes Maria expects, he starts with short, nudging thrusts that hit all the right buttons, but not as intensely as she wants. When Maria thrusts back, trying to improve on the friction, he grunts, smiling. “Patience, grasshopper.”

She pinches his butt and is rewarded with a yelp and a grind that nearly finishes her off. But he doesn’t keep going, just slides his hands under her arms to tangle in her hair. “You’re going to pay for that, Maria.”

The threat is soft, but it shudders down her spine in dark promise. Still, Maria’s not about to let him just have his way with her.

“Promises, promises...”

Her taunt ends on a gasp as he thrusts – long and slow, all the way out and all the way in, filling her full and stroking her sweet spot on the way. And again. And again. Maria squirms and arches, trying to get it harder, tighter, but his hand clench in her hair holding her down, limiting her movement.

In frustration, Maria claws at his hips and his back, trying to get some leverage. Apparently, it’s the wrong thing to do because he  _stops_ . Stills entirely, his chest heaving against hers as he levers himself up.

“You okay?”

She groans and thrashes under him. “Oh my god,  _what_ , Rogers?”

“I...” He sounds confused. “Are you okay? Am I—I’m not hurting you—?”

“No!” She claws at his buttocks. “Keep going—” The darkness makes her wild and shameless, lifting herself up against him, trying to find that angle, that sensation—

He shakes in her arms, and for a moment she thinks that it’s all over and bastard didn’t even take her with him. Then she realises he’s laughing – a gasping shake that trembles against her, in her. “It’s not a race, Maria.” His mouth covers hers, moving firm and fierce, and she bites his lip – which he seems to like from the jerk of his hips – and then he’s moving again, no faster, no harder, just that long stroke that sizzles every nerve and fries her sense.

“Tell me to stop if I’m hurting you,” he murmurs, nipping his way back down to her throat. “But I won’t be going any faster...”

He fucks her like it’s a marathon, and he’s not even halfway through. And Maria whines in her throat, and grumbles, and threatens him as he winds her up by notches. Her body is humming, everything in her hot and sharp and wild and aching...

The slow-blooming orgasm is a surprise, a crest she’d almost resigned herself not to reaching. But once she’s there, she’s  _there_ , every nerve in her sparking. She clings to Steve, gasping, moving against him, trying to make it last. And he lifts his head from her shoulder enough to grin at her, before kissing her and moving harder, sharper, less leisurely now. At some point, he comes, too – at least, he grunts and half-lifts his head from her shoulder before collapsing on her, panting. By then, Maria’s lost track of time – her senses in a golden lassitude, her body thrumming, utterly buzzed.

“You’re gonna kill me, Maria,” he mutters into her throat.

“You’re the one who decided to go slow.”

She can feel his smile against her skin. “I did.”

“Asshole.”

He laughs, and rolls over, pinching the condom as he withdraws, leaving Maria sprawled in the sheets. “That’s what my buddy Bucky tells me, all the time.”

Maria rolls her eyes. “Do you have a tissue—?”

He has a washcloth, which he runs under the bathroom tap until it’s warm, then brings it back for her to clean herself up. When she looks for somewhere to put it, he takes it out of her hand and tosses it back through the ensuite door, then leans in to kiss her as thoroughly as though he didn’t just get laid.

She should go. She really should go—

“Hey,” she warns him when his hands slide down to her hips, “Don’t even _think_ about getting frimmmph...”

He lets her up for air – eventually. “You promised to stay for breakfast.”

“I have a cat. And a job. And I wasn’t going to stay last night—” 

“Mm, speaking of last night,” he says, stroking his hand down her side to her hipbone and then back up again, “I hope that this isn’t payment for playing pretend boyfriend for your grandparents. Because I was kinda looking forward to the ballgames. _And_ that mac and cheese recipe. Not to be greedy or anything, just...”

She snorts. “You’ll still get paid, Rogers. Think of this as one of the perks...”

“So, this is just a one-off? Because I was kind of hoping I was good enough to be invited back for an encore...”

Of course he wants the sex, too. Not that Maria’s averse to sex with Steve as an occassional perk of living next door...

“You already had an encore.”

“Then I’d like the chance for a repeat performance. Maybe a series...”

“You’re stretching that metaphor a long way...” Maria sighs. She likes a bit of skin-to-skin after sex; it’s a pleasant way to relax, even with bodily fluids. Otherwise, most of the time, they don’t care if she rolls out of bed and is gone by dawn. It would figure that the guy-next-door she let persuade her into bed not only isn’t the ‘see yourself out’ type, but wants sex on the side.

So she asks, “You’re basically talking about neighbours with benefits?”

“Basically, yes.”

Maria doesn’t need to think about it too long. He knows his way around, he’s kind of convenient to hand, and she’s had considerably worse offers for casual sex. At least Steve’s no pick-up artist.

“Okay.

“Good.” He kisses her again – does the man ever kiss like he’s not intent on getting laid? And will she ever not respond like damn steel to a magnet? Maria dreads to think.

Steve rolls off to the side of the bed, and for a moment she’s confused. Then a hand snakes out and pulls her up into his side, tucking her up against him. “You’re still staying until breakfast, though.” 

–

He really does makes crepes for breakfast.

Most of the jam even ends up on the crepes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It took a while. It would be nice to get 'The Christmas Episode' done by Christmas, but we'll see...


End file.
